


The Cruel Irony of a Changing Mindset

by Kimyomo



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alex was lonely but then he wasnt, Angst, Canon Era, Lil Alex was one lonely boi, no beta we die like men, not really used to writing angst but here we are, or at least my attempt at it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-06
Updated: 2019-04-06
Packaged: 2020-01-05 13:15:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18366758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kimyomo/pseuds/Kimyomo
Summary: I was listening to Hamilton and suddenly got inspired by the line "I've never had a groups of friends before, I promise that I'll make you proud" and it spiraled. A lot.Yay.





	The Cruel Irony of a Changing Mindset

   When Alexander Hamilton was young, still on Nevis, he didn't exactly spend much time socializing. All of his close family was gone (his father left, his mother died, and his dear brother left for an education without a second thought towards Alex), his cousin was rather distant, and no other child wanted to play with a whore's son. And if they did, their parents quickly discouraged or outright forbid it.

Eventually, Alexander grew to dislike playing with the other kids. He started staying inside more. When he wasn't doing chores, he was practicing reading or writing. He enjoyed it. Then, one day, his cousin hung himself.

(It was that day the lesson sunk in. People were unreliable, and they would undoubtedly hurt you _somehow_ in the end.)

Alex started reading and writing even more. He would need it in the future. He got a job as a clerk. No doubt he would be living alone for a long time, he would need to practice managing money. And when that god forsaken hurricane hit, he let spite fuel him.

He didn't need socialization. All he needed was a quill, some ink, and a thick stack of parchment.

* * *

 

   The year was 1776, and Alexander Hamilton was definitely drunk. But before he took his first sip in the bar they were in, he'd met Aaron Burr (he couldn't resist adding a sir). Alex still didn't like talking to people much, but he knew he had to get over it no matter how much he loathed it. He thought that a strictly-professional acquaintance would be a great start. If he threw himself into a _friendship_ he might show signs of panic or nerves, and that probably wouldn't be all that good.

Even if he'd never see whatever poor unfortunate soul he picked again.

But then Burr started _preaching._  Alex knew that he talked far too much, but he'd never had anyone to listen. So he's a little excited about someone to talk to — someone he already _knew_ was intelligent, too — sue him. Again, the man he was actually happy to meet was _preaching._ Specifically at him. It was a nightmare, and he wasn't sure how to get out of it. He settled for short responses.

Oh God, then the _bar scene_ happened. Alex was just happy he was as drunk as his father liked to get. If he wasn't, he surely would've creeped his new companions(?) out far more. They shared the same goals as him, and they didn't preach.

It was perfect.

 

 

 

But then he gave them a small peek of his childhood.

 

 

He saw the side eyes between the three men; the short, almost unnoticeable nods in a silent promise. He _really_ wished he knew what that promise was.

By the end of the night, his opinion on socializing had altered just slightly. The people in the colonies seemed to mean well, but everyone hurt someone in the end, and Alex was certain that he'd be that someone. Well, no matter. He'd just have to try not to get too attached.

Simple.

* * *

 

   As much as Alexander hated to say it, he was..... wrong. Not getting attached wasn't simple _at all._ They were in George Washington's army now, and one tended to form bonds in times of hardship. It was annoying.

And on the subject of their general, the man was complicating things. For one, the man actually seemed to like him. Strange. And, wait, hold on a second, was that a spark of _pride_ in his eyes? Impossible. People authority rarely even tolerated him. He stirred things up too much, asked too many questions. 

He tried to assess his feelings. They were important to how well he could work.

It was too late to rid himself of his Dearest Laurens (and, yes, dearest was capitalized. If he was going to have friendships he was going to do it right and give them ~~nicknames~~  titles), but the Marquis and Mulligan were iffy. If worst came to worst, he would be able to rip them from himself like leeches. Burr was like.... well, it was difficult to say. He was similar to a nuisance that Alex didn't quite dislike. He could be removed as well, if necessary. 

But then there was the general. He was up there with John, and it was bothering him. Washington was almost like.... like a _father._

Oh, mother of God, no.

Alexander had found out the hard way that those closest to you could harm you the most. He was willing to risk Laurens (though he would never stop calling him by his last name mentally, if only to maintain the illusion of secure solitude), but the general?

Alex could not risk having a father figure. 

He resolved to deny Washingotn's new status, at least verbally. Alexander had already resigned himself to his fate. He just hoped that whatever these people will do won't be too bad.

 

 

"I'm not'cha son" became his new most-used phrase.

* * *

 

   Elizabeth Schuyler was fantastic and Alexander Hamilton was absolutely smitten. He fully realized he was getting attached to her around a week after the ball, but he was astounded to find that he didn't care.

His Betsey was worth it.

Slowly, slow enough so that he didn't notice, Alex's opinion on friendships began to change. He stopped thinking about how badly someon could hurt him, and began to think of how much he enjoyed being around certain people.

* * *

 

The ones closest to him noticed a distance no one could cross finally becoming crossable and positively _reveled_ in it.

* * *

   Alexander Hamilton was getting older, and each year seemed to bring another mistake, be it his own or the world's.

 

His Dearest Laurens was killed.

Lafayette went back to France. Alex was never quite sure of what became of his fellow immigrant.

He _cheated_ on his Betsey. The whore's son became a whore.

Washington, the closest thing he had to a father, died.

Phillip was killed in a duel he himself encouraged. 

Burr shot him, right in between the ribs.

 

He never did talk to his brother again...

 

And in Alexander's last few moments in life, he couldn't help but laugh cynically at a thought in his very last moment of coherence.

_I've betrayed almost everyone one way or the other. I suppose I should've kept my old mindset to keep me distanced from them.... never would've thought that_ they _were the ones who needed to be kept from_ me.

**Author's Note:**

> Bad ending, but I think the rest is okay(?)


End file.
